


How Gay Marriage Stopped the Apocalypse

by tawg



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comment Fic, Let's Get Gay Married Commentfic Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-30
Updated: 2011-06-30
Packaged: 2017-10-20 21:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tawg/pseuds/tawg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The real reason for the Apocalypse? Michael and Lucifer both want to marry Gabriel, and it's their way of competing for his attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Gay Marriage Stopped the Apocalypse

Dean was willing to admit, he’d always felt that Heaven and Hell starting the apocalypse, at the same time, for the same ‘it has been written’ reason had seemed, well, a little far-fetched. He’d always assumed that there was something else going on, something that neither the angels nor the demons were willing to admit to. And, standing in the playground of an elementary school, in the middle of nowhere (“It’s Ohio, Dean,”) he was slowly realising that he was right.

“It was foolish of you to come down here, Michael.”

“And you, brother. It would seem you were... a little _hasty_ getting dressed.”

“It’s not the packaging,” Lucifer said with a slow smile, “it’s the toy inside.”

Ada-no, _Michael_ countered by lifting his chin a little. “Toys get broken so very easily. And I’ve been watching our brother. I’m sure he’ll appreciate something that can take a little wear and tear.”

Dean did _not_ need to see Adam, or anything wearing his brother/half-brother/whatever, attempt a sultry look again. The first time was more than enough. If Cas ever managed to get his ass to the right location - he was reduced to taking taxis now. Taxis! Freaking Angel of the Lord still allowed the drivers to take ‘the scenic route’. Anyway, if his feathered ass ever showed up, Dean was going to demand some angel-mojo brain bleach.

Lucifer took a step closer to Michael. “I’ll tear you apart myself if you think of interfering in my fun.”

Michael took his own step forwards, until he and Lucifer were nose to nose. “You could try. But, oh, I seem to recall that he wasn’t a big fan of blood on your hands.”

“It does rather taint the occasion,” Lucifer agreed. “So I’m sure it’s in our best interests that you fly back on up to your cloud, and move on.”

“Oh no, brother,” Michael countered, “it’s you who should move on. Look at you, hardly keeping it together and you think you’re fit for courting?”

Sam looked at Dean with a puzzled look on his face. “Courting?” Dean had a sinking feeling about this.

“More fitting than you, Michael. You always have been such a bore. You’d put him to sleep, and then I’d just steal into his dreams and snatch him away.”

Michael stuck his lip out in response. “Opposites attract. And you should know by now, he does so love being challenged. You, and your love of chaos and destruction. _You_ would be the bore.”

Dean pressed a hand to his forehead. “Oh god,” he said. “I can’t believe this.”

“Because he has proven to be _so_ willing to run back to the Heavenly choir!” Lucifer snapped back. “He will never choose you, you uptight feather duster.”

“Well he hasn’t chosen you either, you sack of ashes!”

Sam looked at Dean, his jaw slack. “Are they..?”

“Yeah,” Dean said with a sigh. “Their fighting over some mook.”

Lucifer and Michael both snapped their heads to the side, glaring at Dean. “You will _not_ talk about Gabriel that way.”

“Wait, what?”

At that moment, Castiel came jogging up. “I apologise,” he said solemnly, an ‘I ♥ RediTaxi’ badge pinned to his lapel. “Have I missed anything?”

*

“So, let me get this straight,” Dean said, for what felt like the thousandth time since they’d all crammed into the corner booth at the nearest ice cream parlour. “This whole apocalypse, end of the world, seas of blood and the sky catching fire... This is happening because you both want to bone Gabriel?”

The angels leaned their heads together, while Castiel translated ‘boned’ and its social implications into Enochian. “Yes,” Michael said at length, after some interesting hand motions and at least one diagram. “That is correct.”

“And you,” Dean swivelled in his seat, pointing a finger at Lucifer. “You need my brother to do this because..?”

Lucifer plucked at Nick’s jacket, now rather frayed and more than a little bloodstained. “Wouldn’t you wear your best shirt on an important date?”

There was a pause in the proceedings as a waitress named Cathy-Ann delivered their orders; a traditional banana split for Dean, a caramel sundae for Mike, a strawberry ice cream sandwich for Luci, a gelato cup for Sam, and a root beer float for Cas (served in a kids’ cup “Until you learn some damn moderation, Cas. No, don’t give me those eyes. It’s a lesson you need to learn – if you drink the booze a guy keeps in with his underwear, there will be repercussions”).

“Right,” Dean said after the required fight over who got to put their elbows where as they all grabbed spoons and curled protectively around their desserts as only real men can. “You do understand how ridiculous this whole thing is, seeing as you _killed_ Gabriel back in some over-priced hotel.”

Michael scowled at Lucifer. “You took him to the Elysian? I can’t believe you!”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “And then he stabbed Gabriel _with his own sword_.”

“It was only fair,” Lucifer said, slinging an arm over the back of the booth, looking nonchalant. “He was about to stab me, after all.”

Michael’s glare was starting to cause the lights to flicker, the tables to rattle, and one guy in the corner may have exploded a little. Dean slapped the table hard, making the other four jump. “You will keep the mojo out of this, or I swear we are leaving this place and the freaking ice cream _and going home_ , do you understand?”

There was a meek chorus of ‘yes, Dean’s from around the table. Apparently ‘the righteous man’ title had some benefits after all.

“So, what the fuck? You angels always make out with dead people? I mean, I guess it would make the whole relationship easier, since you have the personalities that walls would have, if walls could be epic dicks.”

Lucifer and Michael exchanged a look, and then turned to Castiel who had finished his float and was trying to steal a scoop of Sam’s gelato. He froze when he realised the scrutiny he was under, and folded his hands in his lap. “Angelic courtship is not like that I have observed among humans,” he said.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Why doesn’t that surprise me? Don’t answer that, rhetorical question.”

“Angel’s can only be killed by angelic weapons, and angelic intention. Both are required for our existence to be ceased.” Cas, Michael, and Lucifer engaged in a silent conversation for a moment, before Cas returned his attention to Sam and Dean. “Without the _intention_ to kill an angel, the experience is...” he paused, trying to find the right words, “an assertion of interest and hierarchy.”

Sam’s ginormous forehead crinkled. “What, it’s the equivalent of ‘Hey baby, I’m a talent scout and you look very talented indeed’?”

It took some explaining from Dean this time, and the intrigued looks on the faces of the leaders of Heaven and Hell had Sam very worried, but eventually Castiel nodded. “Yes, that is a comparable example.”

“Wait, if it takes an angel’s weapon and intent, then how did mom-”

“Shut up Sam, we’re talking about important things here.” Dean paused, his mouth full of ice cream. “Wait, so when Raphael exploded you that one time-”

“I do not wish to talk about it,” Castiel replied bluntly. Dean looked at Castiel for a long moment, and the angel shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“So...” Sam said, twirling his spoon in the air, “Stabbing an angel counts as flirting, Gabriel is still alive somewhere, and the apocalypse is essentially you two trying to present him with the biggest bouquet on Valentine’s Day?”

Michael and Lucifer nodded in unison.

“Wait, but why now? Why didn’t you guys do this, I don’t know, before we were born so it wouldn’t have to be our problem?”

Michael and Lucifer had the decency to look a little ashamed. “We had tried to express our interest before.”

“It didn’t end well,” Lucifer added. “There were floods.”

“A few of our Father’s creations were killed.”

“A few cities may have been smote.”

“Small cities,” Michael added hastily.

“And then, just when things were getting good, he got bored!”

“He left. Not even a note!”

“The horn of destruction I got him, just left on the side table.”

“And not just that, the tokens of my affection, which were much, much more impressive than that stupid horn-”

“You shut up, that horn was a thing of beauty.”

“He knew you were just objectifying him by giving him something that needed lips to use.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s what he liked about it,” Lucifer threw back with a cat-like grin.

“Okay, so Gabriel left Heaven and you couldn’t find him...” Sam prompted.

Michael smiled. “Until he was just a little bit too ambitious in some trick, and some of his grace slipped through.”

“He could never be too ambitious,” Lucifer said. “He needs encouragement, not stifling. I wish I could have seen that trick of his. It would have been majestic.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “After that, I knew where he was. And, sadly, so did this pest. And we’ve spent that past two years trying to get all the pieces in place to approach him again.” Michael gave Dean a woeful look. “If you had just said ‘yes’ I could have had my nice, fitted vessel and he would have chosen by now.”

Dean absently slapped Castiel’s hand as he reached long fingers towards Michael’s sundae, and gave Michael a skeptical look. “And if he’d chosen you?”

Michael smiled. “We would have wrought judgment down upon all man. He was just _so good_ at judgement. Heaven would be filled up with souls to keep him occupied, and then we’d have the re-born Earth as a kind of weekend retreat. I was planning on covering all of Australia with white lilies. Do you think that’s too much?”

Lucifer looked at his brother with undisguised disgust. “You are a horrible creature.” He took a bite of his still perfectly frozen ice cream sandwich. “I mean, a whole continent? That’s just tacky.”

Michael scowled. “It’s the world’s largest island,” he corrected. “ _Australasia_ is the continent.”

As the angels bickered, Dean leaned over to Sam and whispered, “With kids like that, I can see why God stepped out to go on a ‘hunting trip’.”

“Hey Dean,” Sam replied, lost in thought. “What happened two years ago?”

“Well, I bit the bullet. Or the hell hounds bit me.”

“Right, and the last Trickster-related event we got stuck in was..?”

Dean locked eyes with Sammy. “The Mystery Spot,” he said. “Great. Me going to hell really _did_ bring about the apocalypse.”

“Okay, well, this can’t be hard, right?” Sam said brightly. “I mean, we just find Gabriel, tell him to man up and-”

Dean snorted. “Because that plan worked so well last time.”

“Okay then, how about we just get one of these guys all polished up so Gabriel will actually like them? In exchange,” Sam added hurriedly, “no apocalypse. No matter _who_ he chooses.”

Michael and Lucifer exchanged unhappy looks, but finally nodded their agreement. “So long as he chooses _someone_ ,” Michael said. “This choosing not to choose is getting old.”

“Does it work, this... ‘changing’ for someone?”

“Can either of you turn yourselves into a Snickers bar?” Dean asked. “Because yeah, that’d probably work and- damnit, Cas! If you try to steal my cherry one more time I am going to cut your freaking hand _off_ and feed it to the hell hounds!”

The rest of the parlour patrons went silent at that outburst, and Dean stood up, pulling his jacket on. “Alright, we’re going to get you two ready for date night and hunt down that freaking pain in the ass. Come on, let’s get this over with.”

“Hey Dean,” Sam said as they paid for the treats. “When you first met Cas, didn’t you shoot him and-”

“Not talking about it, Sammy.”

*

Dean ended up stuck with the job of grooming Michael and Lucifer into non-awful human beings. It was originally Sam’s job, but after Lucifer nearly tricked him into saying ‘yes’ three times with questions like “Do you like puppies _andwillyoubemyvessel?_ ” Dean decided it would be best to stick Sam on Gabriel duty. Besides, Gabriel hadn’t killed Sam (yet), and that was promising in itself.

Right?

Finding Gabriel wasn’t that hard. Sam couldn’t find any deaths that fit the patterns of humbling the self-important. But he did find a pancake house-strip joint, and that seemed like a pretty safe bet.

Gabriel was in a booth at the back, surrounded by girls, syrup, and girls wearing nothing but syrup. He pulled a dour face when Sam made his presence known, but nothing could hide the good humour in his eyes.

“I was rather hoping to spend my afterlife in peace, but I guess I’ll share. Pull up a girl, Sammy. Dig in!”

“Gabriel,” Sam said, gently elbowing a girl out of the way and scooting his chair over. “We need to talk.”

“There are far better things to do with your mouth in a pancake house. Don’t be a killjoy.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “It’s about your brothers.”

“Those two haven’t killed each other yet? And where’s little Cassie? I heard him drop you off.”

“He’s outside. He said he didn’t want to get slapped again and refused to elaborate. And, _no_ , Michael and Lucifer haven’t killed each other,” Sam said. “They haven’t given up on you, either.”

“Hmm?” Gabriel allowed himself to be distracted by Belgian waffles and a waitress in Playboy lingerie.

“Michael. Lucifer. _You_ ,” Sam ground out. “They’re still fighting over you, you know.”

Gabriel looked up at Sam with raised eyebrows. “Me? What’d I do this time, leave the milk out?”

“You know that’s not what this is about.” Gabriel’s expression didn’t change. “... Don’t you?”

Gabriel pulled a face and turned back to his pancakes. “Last time I was knocking around with those two it was all fun and games, except for the time they spent fighting which was, oh, every second of the day. Angel’s don’t need to stop for breath, Sam, it was never-ending.”

“And what were they fighting about?” Sam prompted.

“Everything!” Gabriel cried, waving his fork in the air. “Lucifer wanted to build a mountain range on the moon but Michael thought it would upset the Feng Shui of the globe. Michael wanted another day in the week so we’d have some free time to hang out more, but oh no, Lucifer couldn’t have Michael upsetting that whole ‘seven’ theme Dad had going on. They argued over what colour sandals I should wear on Earth. Sandals! Like it freaking mattered, since _no one_ looks good in sandals.” Gabriel pulled the plate of waffles over. “You have no idea how happy I was when they invented tennis shoes.”

Sam’s shoulders slumped. Gabriel was not sounding receptive to the idea of meeting up with his brothers... lovers... whatever the heck it amounts to for angels.

“I was made to balance those two out, you know.”

Sam looked up in interest. “Really?”

“Oh yeah. They could not compromise on anything. So Dad goes and makes me. I am a divine mix of distraction and judgement,” Gabriel said, waving his arms about. “He made me so he wouldn’t have to settle their arguments anymore!”

“Well,” Sam said, trying to find an angle that would serve his purpose. “If it’s what you were made for...”

Gabriel shot Sam a flat look. “And how have you enjoyed the tasks you were _made_ for, Sammy? Hm?”

“Okay, okay. Point taken. But, look, Michael and Lucifer are still fighting over you. They’re bringing the whole world into it!”

Gabriel waved a hand. “They’ll storm off and sulk in their own corners eventually. It’s what happened last time.”

“No, what happened last time is that they couldn’t find you. No Gabriel, nothing to fight over.”

Gabriel frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“They’re fighting _over_ you, numbskull,” Sam snapped. “For you. To obtain you. They are essentially sitting in a Super8 motel while Dean of all people tries to talk them through date night etiquette because the whole apocalypse is apparently two suitors slapping gloves at each other over who loves you more!”

Gabriel sat there in silence. Even the cheesy strip club music had stopped. “Huh,” he eventually said. “That... that actually explains a few things.”

Sam gaped at Gabriel. “You honestly didn’t know?”

Gabriel shrugged. “It’s not like either of them actually said anything. No, it was all creating mountain ranges in the shape of my name, or colouring the sand of a whole desert after my sign. Too busy doing showy shit like that to actually show they cared or anything.”

Sam dragged his gaping at Gabriel out as long as possible. “Well,” he said at last. “Now you know. You know, and you are going to go and pick one of them so we can all go back to our own lives.”

“Hell no,” Gabriel said, signalling for another milkshake.

“What?”

“You deaf, Sammy? Because if you are that wasn’t me. I said no. N-O. A word I hear you’re familiar with.”

“But... But you could stop this whole thing!”

Gabriel shrugged. “Or I could wait it out, just like last time.”

“You cannot be serious.”

Gabriel glared at Sam, the effect somewhat dampened by the mess of cream and sprinkles in front of him. “You know what ‘picking an angel’ in the ‘do you want to go with me?’ sense means? It means picking them _forever_. For the rest of eternity. And I have the gift of foresight, I know just how long eternity is. And stuck with either of them? It feels a whole lot longer. Hell, I’d rather get bonded to you. At least it’d be over when you died. And given Winchester luck, I’d be a bachelor again in a week.”

Gabriel dug into a small mountain of crepes. He was halfway done before he noticed the silence from Sam and looked up. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

*

Dean was explaining to Michael for the third time why he shouldn’t order a cider at a bar if he wanted to get laid, when Castiel popped up, and thrust a napkin at Dean. Written on it, in a rather girly cursive: To Dean, Mikey, and Luci,

You are all cordially invited to the wedding of ~~Loki~~ ~~Anisi~~ _Gabriel_ Archangel of Justice ~~and dogs~~ and Samuel Winchester, to be held right this minute so, I guess you guys have missed it. Oh well. Feel free to contribute to our treasure chest by donating any small islands you may find and stopping the apocalypse.

Dean looked up at Cas. “They can’t be serious.”

Cas held out a Polaroid photo, of Sam looking awkward, Gabriel wearing a veil, and the two of them apparently sharing their first kiss as a married couple on the bridge of the starship Enterprise, their wedding having been officiated by Elvis.

*

“Your exact words,” Gabriel said, swaying happily as he stood on Sam’s feet and yet still somehow managed to steer Sam around in a waltz, “were ‘so long as he picks _someone_ ’. Freaking angel of justice and an almost-lawyer, boys. You should have picked your words better.”

“And you,” Dean said, glaring at Sam. “What’s your excuse?”

Sam shrugged. “It beats jumping into Hell. I think you should go talk to Cas. It looks like he’s learning a _lot_ about the importance of ‘human bonding rituals’ in a healthy relationship. And you did stab him that one time.”

“I can’t believe you’d do this to us,” Michael said, turning some impressive puppy-dog eyes onto Gabriel. “After those millennia we spent gazing upon you with love.”

Gabriel snorted. “The only thing you two loved was bickering with each other. I’m surprised you two didn’t end up shacking up. The makeup sex for the snit fit you two have been having _since the dinosaurs_ would be epic.”

Michael and Lucifer gazed at each other dubiously. And then Lucifer’s gaze turned considering, and Michael glared at Lucifer, and Lucifer grinned.

“And they all lived happily ever after,” Sam said, watching as his brother tried to drag Cas away from wedding-ceremony-Elvis, and Lucifer and Michael tried to secure his services before the open bar ran out.

“Right up until they all try to kill one another in their sleep.”

“It’ll work out,” Sam said. “It’s just been an emotional day.”

Gabriel nodded with sympathy. “Even the cake is in _tiers_.”

“That was terrible.”

Gabriel let his hands slide down to rest on Sam’s ass. “Love can be a _touchy_ subject,” he observed.

“You need to stop talking.”

“Don’t be silly, I’m perfectly _engaging_.”

“Just kill me now.”


End file.
